


A Night At The Leaky

by ladyknightley



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bromance, Gen, also some drunkenness, and bonding, background hinny and romione
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 14:47:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6333238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyknightley/pseuds/ladyknightley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Ron have some brotherly bonding time. Or: How Harry Became A Weasley</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Night At The Leaky

**Author's Note:**

> Another fic from my tumblr I'm cross-posting here!

“The thing _is_ ,” Ron says, placing his pint down firmly on the table and pointing in the direction of one of the Harrys sat opposite him. “The thing…is. The thing…heh…thing. No. The thing _is_ , you know Ginny, right?”

Harry nods several times.

“Ginny, she’s my sister. My schister. My—my _sister_ ,” Ron continues. “Ginny…is my sister. And I’m her brother.  And _you_ , you’re my friend. My pal. My good buddy. And! I _don’t mind that you’re dating her_. How good is that?!”

“I know why this is,” Harry says smugly, with the air of a man who has solved one of the great philosophical questions of the age, then spoils the effect slightly by hiccupping. “Ish _because_ Hermione, right? Hermione…she’s _my_ sister.”

“She’s _not_ ,” Ron says indignantly. “Hair’s too different.”

Harry looks momentarily flummoxed, but quickly regroups. “I don’t mean geneticsly,” he says, waving a hand and knocking a coaster off the table. “Whoops! No. Hermione an’ me, we’re like…if I had a sister, it’d be her. And…if I didn’t have a you, she’d be my you. Only, I don’t think she’d be as good as being you as you are.”

“Too much books,” Ron nods sagely.

“Too much books,” Harry agrees. “But! The point _is_ that Hermione, right, Hermione is like my sister. So when I think of you an’ her together, I don’t like it, because that’s my _sister_. But, you think that about me an’ Ginny, because she’s my sister. No! That’s wrong, isn’t it? She’s _your_ sister.”

“Who is?”

“Ginny!”

“Oh yeah…”

“D’you wanna nother beer?”

“Yeah.”

“…”

“See, what I’m sayin’, about Ginny, I mean,” Ron says thoughtfully, once they’re both re-seated (a feat which takes some effort), “is that at first, right, I was mad that you were dating her. Because she’s my sister, you know? And you’re _not_ my sister.”

“ _Definitely_ not,” Harry nods, as though this had been in much doubt.

“But I have decided to let you be with her,” he continues magnanimously. “Because I have had a-a-a realisation!”

“You have?” Harry asks, startled.

“Yes,” Ron says firmly. “See, I know you’re the Chosen One Who Lived or something, but I know Ginny. And I have known her for ninet—twenty—twenteen— _many_ years. More years’n I’ve known you. An’ I was thinking about it—her, and what I thought was _this_.” He nods once and puts his glass down on the table again. Harry, who had been leaning further and further in, to not miss Ron’s realisation, jerks up suddenly and frowns at him in confusion.

“What did you realisation?” he asks.

“Oh! Yes. I realised,” Ron says, pausing for dramatic effect. “That if you do anything to upset Ginny, I don’t need to hurt you because there’s _no way_ you’d survive if you pissed her off. She’d—you— _poof_!” He mimes an explosion with his hands, and nods, satisfied.

“Oh, _that_ ,” Harry says, sounding vaguely disappointed, and Ron’s face fell. “Tha’s _old_ news,” he insists. “An’ I’ve always thought the same about you an’ Merhione. _Hermione_. She’s my sister, but I don’t need to protect her from you, I need to protect _you_ from _her_. ’Member those birds?”

Ron shudders. “Could never drink enough to forget them,” he says darkly, in a brief moment of sobriety.  It soon passes. “Y’know,” he says thoughtfully. “I quite like this.”

“What, the Leaky?” Harry asks.

“Nah,” he replies. “I mean… _this_. Us.”

“Are you hittin’ on me?” Harry asks. “Because ’m flattered, but I’m scared of what Gin’d do if I messed her around.”

“No,” Ron says. “I mean, us bein’…whatever we are. Because you’re my mate, my pal, but…it’s a bit sissy to say that, innit? So, if Ginny’s my sister, and you’re Ginny’s girlfriend, and Hermione’s _your_ sister, and Hermione’s my woman, you’re my…my…my…sister-in-law!” he finishes triumphantly, looking delighted.

“That’s _so cool_ ,” Harry says, eyes widening. “I’ve always wanted a sister.” He clambers to his feet, swaying slightly, but his expression quickly changes to one of utter delight.

“Y’know what _I’ve_ just realised?” he asks.

“What?” Ron asks warily.

“If I’m your sister-in-law that means that also…I,” he pauses triumphantly, “amma Weasley!” He strides forward, and immediately topples headlong over a bar stool.

* * *

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m really grateful that you _have_ come to pick them up,” Hannah says, as Ginny and Hermione brush themselves off as they step out from the fireplace, “but if it were me, I’d leave Nev where he was, he could find his own way home! I love the bloke, but I’m not going to run round after him when he gets drunk, you know?”

“Oh, I hope they weren’t any trouble?” Hermione asks anxiously. “We can leave some extra money to cover—”

“It’s nothing like that—and honestly, they’ve mostly been fine. No disruption or destruction. It was pretty quiet tonight, and they’ve both spent a _lot_ with how much they’ve been drinking,” Hannah replies. “I was just thinking—it looks like the two of you were having a pretty nice evening together. Why let them ruin it for you? If it were me, I wouldn’t let them get away with it!”

She’s joking, but only half: she had felt quite guilty in disturbing them, not least when it was neither of their faults that Harry and Ron had drunk themselves into a stupor. When she had put her head through the floo to call on the two of them, they had been curled up in the lounge at Grimmauld Place with a bottle of wine and an assortment of cosmetics between them, and Ginny had been carefully painting Hermione’s toenails (she had put on a pair of flip flops to come to the pub, which looked particularly charming with her snitch-patterned pyjama bottoms and an enormous maroon jumper with a giant ‘R’ on its front).

The two women exchange wry smiles. “The things you do for love,” Ginny shrugs. “Or something equally ridiculous.”

“Well, if you want payback, I’d whip out a camera about now,” Hannah says, beckoning them forward. The three of them peer around the bar and stifle giggles. The pub is empty but for the two of them, but they’re both snoring so loudly it sounds as though there are several conversations going on at once. Although Harry is sat in a booth, his stomach and face are pressed against the table, with one arm drooping off either side in such a way that he bears a remarkable resemblance to a chimpanzee, whilst Ron is propped upright on the booth’s other side, wearing a very dopey grin and, inexplicably, Harry’s glasses.

“Oh no,” Hermione grins, “we’ve better payback than that. We have to go for Sunday lunch at The Burrow tomorrow. The whole family’ll be there, including all the kids, and we’re expected bright and early to help with the preparations.”

“And,” Ginny adds brightly, “we’ve hidden all the Hangover Potion!”  


End file.
